careful what you wish for
by HaneGaNai
Summary: Stiles had his own ideas for celebrating his eighteenth birthday.


Stiles' eighteenth birthday was a big affair and he had Lydia to thank for it all. The strawberry-blonde genius had somehow convinced his father that a proper party was something Stiles really needed and that the Martin's was a perfect place to house it.

Stiles quite obviously didn't count on the whole school showing up. He thought that it would be just the pack, maybe some other classmates of choice and he'd be perfectly fine with that. He'd actually prefer it to what was happening around him at the moment.

The walls were practically vibrating with the bass, bodies gyrating on the living-room floor in a haze of alcohol, sweat and hormones. There was a couple necking right next to him on the couch where he reclined to in hope of a minute of piece.

He could see Scott, Isaac and Allison dancing together, bodies entwined so tightly that they could have just as well been a single unit. Cora was somewhere there as well, grinding against some poor boy or girl. He saw Lydia wander off upstairs with Aiden, abandoning her role as the hostess and leaving Stiles all alone with the guests he couldn't really care less about for the most part.

He abandoned his seat the moment a shirt landed on his head and escaped to the patio. This part of the house was much calmer, barren even compared to the rest of it with only a few people mingling around, enjoying a breath of fresh air.

Stiles leaned against one of the columns and closed his eyes zoning out for a moment, distancing himself from the noisy party. Lydia was amazing at gathering crowds and organizing a good time for them all and he really was grateful for her efforts. However, he was aware that most of the people here didn't care for the reason behind the party; they didn't even know him and wouldn't spare him a glance in the school hall.

Just. While all of his friends were occupied and paired off for the most part, he was left to fend for himself and mope. He couldn't even get drunk since they all had to promise his dad alcohol would not be involved, werewolf or not.

"Is the birthday boy not enjoying his party?"

Heart practically leaping out of his chest at the sudden question Stiles jumped flailing ridiculously. Then he scowled, because he knew that voice perfectly well.

"I wasn't aware you were invited, Peter." He rounded at the werewolf, but he was more startled than angry. Quite the opposite even, but he wouldn't admit to it even on the threat of his dad finding his porn.

There were inappropriate interests and then there were inappropriate objects of interest.

"I wasn't. But then again how could I miss celebrating your coming of age?" Peter stepped out of the shadow of the other column and moved steadily closer to Stiles.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the werewolf. Peter did this sometimes, when they were alone. Dropping veiled innuendos and hints of interest. Goading Stiles, closing in on him, looking for ways to make him blush, but never actually saying things outright. Frustration was practically oozing out of Stiles on those occasions and it looked like today would be no different.

"I'll let you come in only if you brought something for me." Stiles replied playing along for the moment. Because, it was _his_ birthday after all and he'd enjoy at least a bit of it, dammit.

The werewolf chuckled taking that one step closer that brought them impossibly close together yet still left a breath of space, a teasing hint of warmth radiating from the man's body and chasing away the chill that Stiles never even noticed creeping in.

"Whatever would you like to have from me?" Peter teased and it was clear that the werewolf thought Stiles would shy away like he always did. Tonight though, tonight Stiles reached his limits.

They were much closer than any of the times before, so close he could smell Peter's aftershave, that he could feel it on his lips every time Peter exhaled. So close that it didn't take much to close the gap between them and sink his teeth in Peter's lower lip.

Peter jerked in surprise, but hadn't backed away. Not that Stiles would let him, his hands fisting in Peter's shirt and holding on as he kissed the man. Inexperienced. Sloppy. _Hungry. _And everything he wanted. It got even better when Peter joined in and took over directing the kiss, showing Stiles how to make it even hungrier, more passionate, then languid. Teaching him how to make it more.

A voice clearing off to their left startled Peter away from him and wasn't that a boost to Stiles' ego, if the werewolf got so distracted with him that he couldn't sense they had company.

Lydia stood a few feet away, arms crossed and one perfect eyebrow arched at them. "Should I bring out some Molotov cocktails?"

Peter, either unable or unwilling to get free from Stiles hold and step away from him, held his hands up as if to say that it wasn't on him. He was opening his mouth already, probably to deflect, but Stiles would have none of it.

"We're celebrating." He told Lydia is dismissal and reeled Peter back in.


End file.
